


Majority Wins

by moonsamurai



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: ?? - Freeform, A lot of fucking death, Angst, Based on YTTD, Character Death, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Majority vote, Sad, Yttd au, ish, moon is back on her bullshit again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26610148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonsamurai/pseuds/moonsamurai
Summary: "Hey, do you know what a majority vote is?""Please choose who to vote.""All votes received.""Majority rules!"A Kimi ga Shine- YTTD AU for LU.
Relationships: Everyone & Everyone
Comments: 51
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> your turn to die is such a good game, please play it :D
> 
> there's quite a bit of death in this fic, read at your own discretion!
> 
> (and yes this is another twi centric thing i'm sorry i just love him,,)
> 
> apologies in advance for this really choppy writing,, lol

_“Heeeeyyyy… Hey! Just a random question, but do you know what a majority vote is?”_

_“Obviously.”_

_“...You of all people would know, wouldn’t ya?”_

_“What’s it to you?”_

_“Ahaha, no need to get mad. It’s helpful to start conversations with an easy question.”_

_“Shut up.”_

_“Aww, that’s not very nice. Well…”_

_…_

_“Well, this game is all about majority votes, y’know. You don’t look particularly pleased… games are supposed to be fun.”_

_“Does it look like I’m going to enjoy this?”_

_“Ahaha… if you insist, let’s hold a vote. Your opinion versus mine.”_

_“...”_

_“No objections? Alright then_ — _l_ _et’s go.”_

* * *

It’s dark when Link says goodbye to Zelda and heads back to school for Ilia. She’s still there for some reason, unless she forgot to text him when she got home, but he’s not going to question it.

He sends a quick text to her, just in case, but he doesn’t get a response. _Was she still doing club activities?_ There’s no way— it’s half an hour past ten, and the only person left should be the security guard. 

He weaves through the dark streets illuminated by faint street lights easily and arrives at the gate leading to the school. The security guard’s room’s light flickers off just as he gets there. 

Weird.

Through the darkness, he can just barely see Ilia moving towards the gate. He takes one step forward, only to hear a sharp gasp, and then—

“Link?!”

“Ilia, it’s half-past ten. Why are you still at school?” he asks, glancing between the high school building and her. 

Her worried expression morphs into an embarrassed one, and she glances at the ground with a blush. “I fell asleep.”

“During class or the activities?” Link responds, raising an eyebrow. “It’s late as hell— Uncle Bo’s going to be worried.”

“Mad, if anything,” Ilia laughs softly, shaking her head. “I think I fell asleep after the activities.”

“And no one bothered to wake you?”

Ilia shrugs, fiddling with her hands. “I don’t know. I went to sleep and woke up really late.”

Link smiles, reaching out and patting her head roughly. “There goes your sleep schedule again. Isn’t it healthier to sleep at night and wake up in the morning?”

“Like you’re one to talk,” she scoffs, but she’s smiling brightly now. Link rolls his eyes, gesturing towards the gate without a response. She’s not really wrong, after all.

The two walk in companionable silence, their footsteps loud in the… strangely deserted streets. Link spots a poster warning people not to trust strangers nailed to the side of a building and frowns. Where did that come from—

“Link,” Ilia hisses quietly. He glances over at her and blinks. Her eyes are wide open, staring ahead at something— nothing— “We have to go _now.”_

Link follows her gaze and there’s someone standing under the streetlight. The person’s face is hidden by the shadow under the light. He squints and takes one step forward, seeing their mouth move quickly—

“Come on!” Ilia grabs Link’s hand and dashes away, nearly dropping her bag. He bites back a yelp and follows quickly, taking one last glance behind him.

_“Don’t go home—"_

He reluctantly shakes off the words and runs with her.

“What’s wrong?” he asks once they arrive in front of Ilia’s house. She gulps in air and wobbles upright from a hunched over position, fear burning in her eyes.

“That— that was—" Ilia tries, but she can’t get the word out. Link doesn’t need the rest of it.

“Hey. You’re okay. They’re not gonna follow as long as I’m here,” he says firmly, clasping her shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll bring Colin and the other kids to come and beat the crap out of them if I have to. I’ll get the freshmen to come too.”

Although she’s shaking, presumably from fear, Ilia manages a giggle, muffling her voice with her hand. Link can’t help but smile slightly too.

“Well… you should get home now. Colin is probably really worried,” she says finally, her voice small. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?” Link asks, biting back worry. He squashes the bad feeling he has when Ilia nods. “Then… I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

“Yeah,” Ilia agrees, waving once before turning around and going into her house.

Link watches her step in through the door and turns around. He exhales, shaking off the dark feeling building at the pit of his stomach.

He takes approximately two steps before a scream alerts him from the house. 

A very familiar scream.

“Ilia!” he yells, spinning on his heel and sprinting back to the house. He slams the door open and carefully scans the walls. There’s a fallen potted plant over by the stairs, and--

“Link?!” Ilia’s voice calls. Link spins towards the noise and immediately gets tackled by Ilia, who buries her face in her chest, mumbling panickedly. 

“Ilia, hey! What’s wrong?!” he asks quickly, soothingly, rubbing circles on her back as he swallows down panic. “What happened?”

“I-It’s— it’s Dad,” Ilia whispers, cutting herself off in her panic. “He’s— I don’t know— I—"

“Is he inside the family room?”

“Yeah.”

Link bites his lip and pushes Ilia away from him slightly, stepping towards the door and opening it. The lights have been flicked on, and he sees Uncle Bo collapsed next to the table to the left.

“U-Uncle Bo!” He rushes over, feeling for a pulse. It’s there. He’s breathing. He’s alive, just unconscious. Relief washes over him in a wave, sending him sinking to his knees. “He’s okay, he just got knocked out.”

Ilia sighs in relief, dropping down next to him with a distressed frown. “But who…”

“I’m going to call the police,” Link informs, pulling out his phone and dialing the police. It takes a moment to pick up, but they’re on— _“Hello?”_

He explains the situation as best as he can, gripping the phone tightly, like a lifeline. Which it might be. Ilia goes up the stairs, probably to check her room.

A few minutes pass, and he hangs up, hoping the police arrive soon. Ilia still hasn’t come down, which is kind of weird. A horrible feeling slams into him like a ton of bricks, and suddenly he’s rushing up the stairs because _something’s wrong something’s wrong something’s wrong—_

The door to her room is wide open. It’s pitch black inside, and _(is Ilia in there—)_ the key lays right in front of the darkness.

_Turn back turn back turn back turn back what are you doing turn back turn back turn back_ **_turn back turn back don’t—_ **

His feet are moving on their own towards the room _turn back turn back_ ignoring the rational side of him _don’t go in_ and he takes one step into the darkness _TURN_ **_BACK_** **—**

Hands reach for him, grab him, drag him further in _HELP GET OUT GET OUT_ **_GET OUT_ ** and a scream catches in his throat. 

_GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT_ **_NOW_ **

He spins around against the arms _GET OUT GET_ and reaches for the light behind the doorway _OUT, GET OUT GET_ **_OUT_ ** **—**

There’s someone there.

There’s someone in the doorway.

His heart beats in his ears, instincts screaming to _run—_

_Who—?_

Why are they coming closer?

_“Hey—"_

“Did you—”

“Run—!!”

His fits meets air as it swings towards the man, and suddenly his world is spinning, fading, and the light disappears—

* * *

_“Ever wonder about death?”_

_Her tone is so conversational and casual, it’s like talking about the weather with a scythe looming over her shoulder. She sits up under the tree, taking in the leaves quietly._

_“Sometimes,” he answers, leaning forward and resting his face on propped up hands. “Why do you ask?”_

_“I dunno,” she responds simply, dropping her gaze on to the little flowers that have sprung up during the season. “Just a question.”_

_“Well you must’ve had a reason for randomly bringing it up,” he says, although he’s not even convincing himself. “What’s wrong?”_

_“It’s nothing,” she says, standing up and picking a small, red flower that rested near her leg. “You know… if anything ever happens—"_

His eyes flutter open.

Link’s not really sure what to think. One moment, a faded dream of a vague memory about a year ago. The next, he’s staring down a bright light overhead glaring down at him dimly. 

_Where am I?_

He shuts his eyes against the light and tries to remember everything. 

_I’m Link. Ilia and I… got home, Ilia_ —

“Ilia…?” he whispers unsurely, opening his eyes again. He’s blinded momentarily before he finally sees.

“Wh-where are we?!” Ilia’s voice shouts from beside him. “Is anyone there? Someone—!!”

A tense beat of silence. Stay silent or yell back, he doesn’t know what to do. He tries to sit up, but he’s yanked back by something— ropes or belts— tying him down.

_What in the name of Hylia—?_

“Can anyone hear me?!”

“Ilia!!” Link says loudly, tugging at his arms. The left doesn’t budge, but his right arm swings up easily, unrestrained. “You okay?”

“Link— Link, do you know where we are?!” Ilia calls back hurriedly. “I-I can’t move!”

“Can you move your right arm?” he asks, his fingers trailing up the belt over his stomach.

There’s some rustling, and— “Yes, yes I can! But… how are we supposed to get out of here—”

She’s interrupted by a loud, annoying ringing coming from his pocket. He startles, nearly jumping through the restraints. He digs through his right pocket and yanks out a phone, pausing when he hears something fall to the ground with a _clink._

“Hello?” he calls into the phone once he presses the call button. “Is someone there? Please, send help—”

**“...Beginning voiced guidance.”**

“Voiced… guidance…?”

**“The First Trial will now begin. Twilight and Ilia. Find the key hidden in this room. Then, remove your restraints. If you cannot do so before the time limit expires, the device on the beds will activate, and your bodies will be crushed with a thud.”**

“What?!” Ilia yells. There’s more rustling to Link’s side; probably Ilia trying to tug herself free. He yanks at his own belts again, but they don’t budge.

_Who’s Twilight…?_

**“By all means, please enjoy this thrill with all your body and soul. The time limit is a healthy five minutes. And note that there is only one key, so please discuss who will use it.”**

“Key…? I don’t have a key— Link, do you have it?!”

He stuffs his hand into his pockets, looking for a key, praying there’s something there— but there isn’t…? 

No, wait, he dropped something earlier. He tugs against the restraints and reaches down to the ground. His fingers close around something cold. 

“I think I got it!” Link calls back, bringing his arm back up and squinting at the key. It’s small and red, and Link prays he won’t regret this.

“Link—”

“Ilia, give me your hand,” Link commands, moving his head as best as he can. Shifting against the belts, he catches a glimpse of Ilia’s right hand and slams the key onto her palm. “Free yourself.”

“Wh— but—”

“There’s only one key!” he grits out. “If worst comes to worst, you’ll be alright.”

“What about you?!” 

Link pauses. _What about him indeed…_ “It doesn’t matter,” he decides, about to retract his arm when Ilia grips his hand.

“No, Link,” Ilia says, squeezing his hand. “Take it. I… I trust you. You can… find a way out, right?”

_Right?_

“You’re good at puzzles.” Her voice turns pleading. “I can’t do this. Please, Link…” 

“...Fine,” Link grits out, taking the key and jamming it into his lock. “Don’t let me regret this…!” 

There’s a moment of silence as Link tries to get the restraints off, muttering swears under his breath all the while. He rolls off of the bed, the restraints slipping off of him easily. He tumbles to the floor and he’s free.

He stands up, using the bed as leverage, and sighs in relief— the key wasn’t fake. The voice was telling the truth.

He takes a quick scope of the room— a wooden cabinet, a candle dangling on a little rope next to the lights, and Ilia, who’s strapped down with green… belts? He winces— the neon green is _not_ nice on his eyes. He watches as the bed he was on sinks into the ground.

There’s nothing el—

_What—?_

Through a window above Ilia’s head, a tall boy with red hair, wearing a mix of red and blue stands. A panicked expression rests on his face as he holds two guns, one aimed at his forehead.

_What is he_ —

He sees him. 

He’s looking directly into his eyes.

Tears drip down his face as he reaches out with his left hand, dropping the gun. He jolts a moment later, bending down and picking up the gun, squeezing his eyes shut—

**_B A N G_ **

Red.

He’s frozen, rooted to the spot as the phantom sounds echoes in his ears. Blood flies out from the other side of the boy’s head. Crimson splatters, the body falls, _oh goddesses who was that_ —

His breath hitches, replaying the scene in front of him. _He_ — _he was wearing a school uniform, he couldn’t have been much older than me_ —

“Link…?”

Ilia.

If he doesn’t save her, will she—?

_They’re really out for us._

_We’re going to die._

_We…_

_We can’t… I can’t let her die._

And he’s moving, determined not to let Ilia meet the same fate.

“Come on,” he manages, jamming the key into Ilia’s lock. It doesn’t fit, it doesn’t _fit…!_

“Link, calm down. There has to be a way out,” Ilia soothes, tears running down her face. “You can do it.”

_There has to be a way._ Exhale. “Yeah,” Link says, turning to the cabinet.

His hands move on their own, searching through the wooden compartment. He pulls out a butcher’s knife and squints at his reflection through the metal. 

_What the hell…? Can I cut through the belts with this?_

“L-Link?” Ilia asks as Link moves back and brings down the blade right next to her wrist. One. Two. Three. He grits his teeth— no dice. Not even close.

“Dammit,” he hisses, staring at the knife. If this isn’t it, and the key doesn’t work— _what can he do…?_

He glances down at Ilia and swallows. If he— no, that won’t work, nothing will work, what can he—?

He clenches his fists in frustration, fighting back panic. He won’t lose Ilia, he can’t, but—

“Shit, what can I— ow!”

He opens his palm hurriedly, wincing slightly. Red drips all over his hand and the key. His eyes widen slightly— blood? And some parts of the key have changed color— to green…?

He wipes it on his pants and blinks. It’s sticky. Really sticky, like candy. Candy…

His gaze snaps up to the candle near the ceiling. Then he’s running around the cabinet, pushing it right under the candle and jumping upon it, praying he’s correct—

“Link, what are you—”

He slams his hand onto the flame, five, four, three, two, _one—_

**“Time is up.”**

_No_ —

**“Commencing execution.”**

“Link—”

The bed’s starting to bend, and Link can only _pray_ he gets there in time—

“Hey, y’know—”

**_S L A M_ **

.

.

.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

“...That…” 

“The key was coated in candy,” Link whispers, unable to bring his voice any higher. “There’s… a candle up there that… could melt the candy off.”

A breathy laugh. “See?” Ilia says, leaning against his chest and wiping away tears. “I told you… you’re better at puzzles.”

“Suppose you’re right,” Link chuckles softly, leaning back against the folded bed. “I…”

Ilia turns to face him with a subdued, yet bright, smile. “Thank you for saving me,” she says earnestly, placing a hand on her chest. “I would’ve died if it weren’t for you.”

“You would’ve lived too if I gave the key to you,” Link reminds, rubbing his burnt hand slightly. His lips quirk upwards. “And you would’ve saved me.”

“Both ways, huh?” Ilia laughs. 

Link nods once, his smile fading. “We have to get out of here,” he says, standing up on shaky legs. He holds his hand out, which Ilia takes. Pulling her up, he turns to the door dubiously.

“Is this the way out?” Ilia asks, stepping towards the door and turning the handle. Unlocked. It swings open easily, revealing pitch black.

“...This doesn’t feel right,” Link mutters, furrowing his brows. Something was off. “It seems… too simple.”

The kidnappers wouldn’t let them go that easily, would they? This had to be a trap. Why would they drag them into this… game— the _‘First Trial’_ — and then just… let them go?

“It does, but I think—” she begins, about to say more—

The lights shut off. 

“Wha— huh?!” 

“Stay calm,” Link shouts back, grabbing for Ilia’s arm. He makes contact and drags her away to the wall. He presses his back against it and takes a deep breath. “What now?”

“Maybe we can use the phone for light?” she suggests. Link nods, pulling out the phone and pressing the button to turn it on. It doesn’t work.

“Did it run out of battery already?” he mutters, shoving it in his pocket. “Okay, uh— I guess—”

He cuts himself off as his feet leave the ground. Ilia makes a strangled noise, but it’s drowned out by the rushing air flying towards him. 

_Wha_ —

He’s falling, he realizes absently, the familiar feeling from riding on roller coasters making itself known. His heart leaps into his throat, his hand shoots out towards the sky, choking back a scream _help help HELP_ —

His senses fade into nothing, leaving him in blissful silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions for eleven people. It goes a lot better than anyone expected, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D

Link really should know by now how bad his luck is.

Er, he _does_ know, he’s just in denial most of the time. That’s what he thinks, anyways.

The goddesses have always hated him for some unknown reason. He’s not the type to believe in that sort of thing, that they have some special grudge against him because of something from a past life, but it’s a thought that makes itself known from time to time.

(Which feels more often than how he describes it, but whatever.)

Light slides into his vision as he opens his eyes slowly. It’s dim, darker light, but it blinds him for a moment. He groans and throws his hand over his eyes before he realizes—

“Ah?” he tries, sitting up. His hand drops to the side as he takes a look around.

He’s in some kind of hallway. The source of brightness that hit his eyes streams in from the end ahead. 

_Where am I, the afterlife?_

He could be, for all he knows. It’s like that thing where you were near death and have to follow the light to death. Considering from how far he had dropped, that wouldn’t really be too far of a stretch.

He glances up. The darkness is endless.

“How did I survive that?” he mutters, squinting into the black that stretches upwards.

How did he even survive the First Trial? He snorts at the thought. Of course. If whoever kidnapped him and Ilia could orchestrate that… thing, then of _course_ he could survive a however-many-foot drop onto concrete ground.

Speaking of—

“Ilia—”

He scrambles up into an upright position, scanning the hallway. No good, she’s not there. Then where—

_She’s not dead, is she?_

The thought hits him like a ton of bricks. He saved her, didn’t he? Unless that was all a dream and he was actually dead. Which, again, wouldn’t be too out of place.

Where could she—

“Link…?”

He whirls around, sucking in a relieved breath. Ilia sits leaning against the dark end of the hallway’s wall, watching him through half lidded eyes. “Ilia,” he breathes, kneeling down next to her. “You okay?”

She doesn’t say anything, just staring at him unnervingly. He pokes her cheek.

No response.

She doesn’t really look all that tired, but what does he know? He exhales. “Go back to sleep,” he says, flicking her forehead. A slow smile spreads on her face before she shuts her eyes.

Well, that’s that. He figures he can’t stay here any longer, though. (Who knows how many traps there are set here?)

Sighing, he places his hands on Ilia’s shoulders and carefully shifts her onto his back. He loops her arm around his neck and stands up, managing to get her in a half carry, half drag.

She’s not going to let him hear the end of this. He stifles a chuckle at the inevitable and carries her through the hallway. He steps into the light—

But it’s not so much as light.

He blinks dumbly. Nine people of varying ages and height stand in the giant space covered in blue tiles. They’re all conversing among themselves, distrust clear in their eyes.

It’s not what he expected, but alright.

“Huh? More people?” the tallest (and probably eldest) man says, spotting him and Ilia. There’s markings all over his face and a notable scar over a closed right eye. “That’s eleven.”

“Even more people to deal with, great,” a boy— adult?— grouses, adjusting his blue beanie. A pink streak covers his left side bang, contrasting with the rest of the gold that peeks out of his hat. 

“You’re the one making it hard for everyone,” another says, messing with his golden hair. He adjusts his scarf and rolls his eyes, glaring at the shorter person with the hat. “Maybe you should just get lost.”

Link shakes his head slightly. “Uh… hello,” he greets quietly. All eyes turn to him, and he smiles nervously.

“Ah, hey,” the tallest man says with a smile. “How’re you?”

“Not sure if you should be asking that in this situation,” the man with the blue scarf scoffs, crossing his arms. “Do you think he’s doing alright?”

“It doesn’t hurt to ask,” the taller man counters, shaking his head. He spots Ilia on Link’s shoulder and tilts his head. “Is she—?”

“She’s fine, just asleep,” Link answers hurriedly, already stepping to the back of the group. “Don’t worry.”

“Why would we worry for someone we just met?” 

“Cold, much,” someone else speaks up. Heads turn to the voice, which belongs to a much younger looking girl with green hair. She smiles and waves once. “We’re all in the same situation, aren’t we?”

“No shit, Sherlock,” the man with the blue hat says before exhaling. “Whatever.”

Link just nods along, making his way to the wall that stretches around them. He lays Ilia down against it, brushing her hair out of her face before moving away. 

“You two know each other?” the older man asks as Link joins the group in the middle. “Wearing the same uniform and all.”

“...I guess you could say that,” Link answers, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“No need to be so suspicious."

“He says that,” the green haired girl laughs, moving up next to the older man and punching his arm. “Don’t worry about him, he’s pretty trustworthy. I think.”

Link glances between the two of them. “You think?”

The younger girl smiles, scratching the back of his head. “I’m Saria,” she says cheerfully. How she’s so happy in this situation, Link probably will never know. “And this here is Link.”

All other heads snap towards her.

“...Wait, say that again?” the man with the scarf says, his mouth agape. “I think I heard you wrong.”

Saria frowns, but repeats, “His name is Link.”

“She’s not lying,” the man— Link— says, his eyebrows rising. “Why is that so surprising?”

“Because my name is Link,” the man with the hat says quietly. “And I—”

“My name is Link too,” Link speaks up, scratching his cheek. 

“How strange…”

“How many people are there who’s name is Link?” Saria asks, her eyes sweeping across the group.

Seven hands, including Link’s, go up.

“That’s… a lot,” Link remarks, stupefied by how many Links there actually are. “I didn’t think it was such a common name.”

“I don’t think it is,” a soft voice says. A boy with brownish hair and a white cloth around his shoulders tilts his head with a smile. “We just all happened to be dragged into this together.”

“But is it really a coincidence eight Links got put together?” the eldest man says, a curious expression resting on his face. “I don’t really think so.”

“Unless we’re looking too far into this.”

Link glances between everyone’s faces and furrows his brows. _It can’t be a coincidence, right? Eight people who have the same names_ — _that’s such a huge stretch…_

“I mean, who cares?” the man with the scarf yells, having covered from his surprise. “We’re all stuck here. How do we get out?!”

His question is met with silence.

_How_ **_do_ ** _we get out?_

“...Well, we can’t be sure of escape yet,” the older man sighs, reaching up to his neck. His hand touches a… collar.

Link hadn’t noticed that before, but it was there, clear as day— a metal collar resting around everyone’s neck. 

Inhaling his reaches up to his own neck. A cold, metal band encircling his own neck…

_What the…?_

“But we’re going to have to work together.”

He swallows dryly, his hand dropping to his side. An unsettling feeling drapes over him like a blanket, taking hold and unwilling to let go.

_What if there’s a traitor?_

The thought hits him out of nowhere. He’s overthinking. He looks around, spotting collars on everyone’s necks. He’s not so sure about the man with the scarf, but it’s probably just being covered by the blue cloth.

 _But still_ —

“We should probably confirm what we all know, first of all.”

What they knew, what he knew. Which… was just about nothing. Except that there had been someone there in Ilia’s room just before he got… knocked out…

Someone… there. Who…

“How are we supposed to know anything?” the man with the hat spits. “It’s not like we had the chance to see anyone before we passed out and woke up in this hellscape!”

No, there’s… one person. There’s no way to suspect over such little evidence, but—

He was overthinking again. His gut screams at him to do something, but he squashes his instincts down with logic. Not that he didn’t trust it, it was just that he couldn’t exactly… confirm anything.

Link exhaled quietly. He was so screwed if this kept happe—

“Link!”

He nearly jumps at the voice, whirling around and watching Ilia rush up to him with a relieved look. “You’re okay!” she exclaims, placing a hand on her chest.

A smile nearly breaks out on his face.

_What if_ —

“Ilia!” he says instead, pushing the thought aside. He plasters a grin on his face, stretching his mouth into a wide, almost genuine smile. _Almost._

The thought doesn’t go away.

“Hmm… well,” the older man says, watching the two students with a lazy smile, “we should probably introduce ourselves sooner or later. And maybe nickname all of the Links.”

He claps his hands together, drawing the attention of everyone else. “Everyone, gather ‘round. It’s time for introductions.”

“Don’t say it like we’re children,” the man with the scarf grumbles. “And how are we even supposed to nickname ourselves? We don’t have any basis.”

Links hums contemplatively. _How_ can _we separate ourselves?_ He didn’t exactly go by any nicknames at school— except ‘rancher,’ but that wasn’t really creative— or anywhere else.

**“Twilight and Ilia.”**

_Twilight…_

“Hey, guys?” he pipes up, thinking back to the First Trial. “Did… anyone else get called by a name they didn’t have by the instructions?”

The room goes silent for a moment.

“You too?” the boy with the white cloth asks. “I was called ‘Sky.’”

“Sky…?” Link repeats. “Any idea why?”

He shakes his head apologetically.

“So I guess we should introduce ourselves according to those given nicknames, assuming that all of the Links remember them,” the older man says. “The instructions called me ‘Time.’”

Ilia tugs Link's arm. "What does he mean?" she asks in a hushed tone. 

"There's eight Links here, including me," he whispers back. "I don't know if you remember or not, but the instructions called me 'Twilight' instead of 'Link.'"

"To avoid confusion," Ilia finishes, nodding in understanding. "Thanks."

“Name and occupation,” Time says, glancing at everyone with a slight smile. “I’m a detective.”

Link nods, turning to the man with the scarf. "Call me 'Warriors,'" he says haughtily. "I serve— well, served— in the military. Should've been called 'Champion.'"

"How funny. I was called 'Legend,'" the man with the hat says with a smug smirk. "Too bad, so sad.

"Why you—"

“Hey, chill,” Time interrupts, glancing at both of them with a watchful eye. “Let’s try not to fight.”

“Yeah, yeah, _captain,”_ Legend snarks. Link doesn’t miss the subtle flinch from Warriors at the word, but brushes it off. 

“Well,” a short boy wearing an array of colors begins, stepping up with a smile, “My name’s Shadow. Not Link.”

_Shadow? That’s… strange, for someone wearing something so colorful._

“I’m what you’d call a job hopper. Self employed, if you will.”

Well, who is he to judge?

“Is your name Shadow because you’re too short to bask in the light?” Warriors quips, yelping as Time slams a hand into the back of his head.

Shadow rolls his eyes, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I might be short, but I’m tall enough to kick you straight in the knees,” he says slowly, his eyes flickering blue.

“Can your feet even reach that—”

 _“I will strangle you_ —”

“Guys, calm down,” Time sighs, dragging Warriors away from a seething Shadow. “You—” He nods at Link. “—what do we call you?”

“Call me Twilight,” Link— Twilight, he supposes— says, nodding at the rest of the group. “Nice to meet y’all.”

“My name’s Ilia,” Ilia follows, waving slightly. “Nice to meet y’all!"

“You two know anything?” Time asks. “Twilight here didn’t give too many details.”

“Not like I had the chance…”

Ilia giggles, but shakes her head, falling back into a somber atmosphere. “No. We were walking back from school. We…”

She pauses, pressing her lips into a thin line.

"We arrived at her house, but there was an… incident, and called the police," Twilight— can he really call himself that?— jumps in, filling in the gaps for her. "But then she just... disappeared, so when I went upstairs—" He swallows the bitter taste in his mouth. "—her stalker stood there."

The group instantly erupts into noise at the word 'stalker,' concern and outrage mixed together into loud chaos.

"What?! Ilia cries, her gaze snapping up to meet his. Worry flashes through her eyes. "This is the first I've heard of this!"

"Sorry, sorry, but you literally just woke up," Twilight apologized, holding his hands up. "Anyways, I went inside and saw him, and ran up to punch him. I don't really remember much else." 

He scowls, clenching his fists. "I'm pretty sure he did something to us, and brought us here or something. I wouldn't know."

Time nods along, a frown twisting his expression. "That doesn't sound good. The stalker... might be among us, and could be a traitor."

Twilight freezes up. _He has the gall to say that in this situation?!_

The tension thickens. People glance side to side, at others, at everyone. 

"Well... that's a possibility," Time amends, shaking his head. "I personally don't think that's the case, but if it is..." 

His gaze sharpens. "Well. We'll just have to see."

The air feels just a little bit lighter. The tension hasn't left completely, but it's a step up.

Time smiles, as if his message _wasn’t_ ominous or terrifying in any way, shape, or form.

"Anyways," Twilight says, breaking the silence, "anyone else have anything to say?"

"I'm Saria, I'm sure you all know," Saria announces once more. 

"For some reason, the thing called me 'Hyrule,'" a boy with bushy brown hair says, coming forward with a nervous expression. "Nice to meet you guys..."

Legend nods in acknowledgment, a weird fondness in his eyes. 

"Interesting, seems like we've got connections all over the place," Time comments, apparently having noticed Legend as well. "I suppose that's a plus."

 _Suppose?_ Why wouldn't it be—

"My name is Aryll," a young girl with blond pigtails says brightly. She can't be any older than an elementary schooler.

His stomach churns— she's so young, who—? Why would they—?

"Aryll, huh? You're pretty young, how old are you?" Warriors asks gently, kneeling down next to her.

She taps her chin once, twice— "Twelve," she answers, swaying side to side. "I'm in sixth grade!"

Twilight swallows thickly, a sickening feeling descending on him. A twelve year old, having to go through this—? 

_Who could... how could anyone do this?_

Ilia nudges him gently, patting his shoulder. "Calm down," she says, shaking her head. "We'll protect her, don't worry."

"...Yeah," Twilight says softly, watching as Warriors and Aryll talk. _Hopefully._

“What’s your name?” Shadow’s voice cuts through the hushed murmurs. They all turn to the voice. He’s looking up at a boy with long, blond hair, tied back behind his back.

Dark bags color underneath flat, dead eyes. He looks exhausted, terrified, shaking through his light blue jacket.

“...They called me Wild,” he says quietly, his tone devoid of emotion.

“You okay?” Time asks, taking a step forward. Wild flinches slightly, jerking his head up and down in a shaky nod. 

_Did something happen...?_

No, something had _had_ to have happened, right—?

Twilight takes slow, cautious steps towards Wild. He stiffens up but doesn’t shy away. 

“Do you remember anything prior to coming here?” Twilight asks, laying a hand on the other boy’s shoulder.

“I…” Wild pauses, his eyes brightening a little, “We were walking back from school.”

“We—?” Twilight repeats. The younger boy takes a deep breath and nods.

"My... friend," he chokes out. "Some people drove up, and parked next to us. I don't... remember anything else."

A beat of silence. The air grows heavy, a foreboding _quiet._

There's something extremely wrong. A horrible feeling slams into his gut, choking him, but he has to know—

"...What... what happened to them...?" Twilight gets out, already regretting his words as Wild stops.

“...He…” Terrified eyes snap to his, screams echo through the room, mouth moving too fast to discern—

**_“He’s dead, I couldn’t stop him he died why why WHY DID THEY SHOW ME HE WAS THE ONLY ONE IT WAS MY FAULT HE AND THE OTHERS—”_ **

One last scream. Knees hit the ground, falling in a dead faint. The group explodes into chaos, moving towards him, trying to make sense of everything while he lays there, tears slipping down a pale face—

...His friend died?

_The others…?_

His friend... was it—

_Was it that boy in the First Trial?_

He can see his lips moving, wanting to say something as his finger presses the trigger—

He shakes his head and moves towards Wild.

The minutes tick by silently. Twilight’s blazer sits under Wild’s head as he lays dead to the world.

"What the fuck," Warriors hisses, crouching next to Wild. "They _killed_ him? They really don't give a shit about any of us, do they—?"

"What makes you think they had a heart in the first place?" Legend says angrily, fists clenched. 

Twilight is silent, staring at the unconscious boy. His mind whirls confusedly, grasping at reality before letting go.

If he was in Wild’s situation, how would he react? If he'd failed to save Ilia—

"This... is horrible," Hyrule whispers through the silence, although it's muddled. "Why would they..."

"...I hate to break this up," Time begins, garnering attention, "but I don't think we have time to stay like this."

Twilight glances up listlessly at the elder in acknowledgement, as does everyone else.

"What should we do then?" Saria asks questioningly. 

"Has anyone found anything in the First Trial? Or anything?" he asks loudly.

"I think this should count," Sky speaks up, pulling a box out of thin air. It's golden and pretty big, about the size of his head. 

"Bet you could fit a whole watermelon in there," Warriors remarks. 

"Was this... from your First Trial?" Legend asks carefully, looking over the box. "Looks more like a safe to me."

"Yeah, this was the point of my First Trial," Sky answers, turning it in his hands. "Weird, huh?"

"So there were different First Trials," Ilia observes. "Should we open it up?"

"We need three keys to do that," Sky informs, turning the box so that three keyholes are visible to everyone.

Twilight stares at the little holes, furrowing his brows. "Maybe... the three keyholes..."

"What about that key?" Ilia asks. "The melted one."

"Oh, that makes more sense," Twilight agrees quickly, yanking out the green key from his pocket. He jams it into the first keyhole. 

Perfect.

"Wait so we can use our key too?" Hyrule says, producing a green key of his own. He fits it into the second one. He shakes his head at the questioning glances. “Legend and I got stuck together, for whatever reason.”

"Then..." Twilight glances over at Wild's body. 

Legend slips his hand into the other boy's pockets and pulls out a red one that hasn't been melted. (Was it supposed to be melted?) "This work?" he asks, tossing it to Twilight.

It's not melted, but it fits into the final keyhole just right, to his surprise.

"It's like they knew," Ilia says, discomfort laced in her tone.

"Alright, might be dangerous so I'll open it up," Time says, approaching and taking the box out of Sky's hands. He twists the keys and flips open the lid.

"You see anything?" Twilight ventures to ask. Time shakes his head. 

"You might not want to look—"

It's too late. Twilight glances past Time's arms and spots—

**A…** **_head?_ **

A startled yelp escapes his mouth before he has time to process, stumbling back. 

"What, what is it—"

Time hisses as he drops the box. The head rolls out, revealing two things— a weird... helmet thing that had been hidden and an actual—

"What the hell?!"

"Holy shit—"

"Seriously!?"

There’s a moment of silence as they stare at the head and helmet.

"Wait... isn't that just a doll?" Legend asks, moving towards it carefully and poking it.

"Why would you—"

Legend recoils, a disgusted look on his face. "Feels like an actual head, but there's no blood."

Loud, relieved exhales make themselves known.

"You're right. There's something else in there— a letter?" Time mutters, pulling out a piece of paper.

_"Find my body_

_Bring me back_

_For I don't have arms or legs"_

Time finishes the message and rereads it dubiously. "Find its body...?"

"Where could the body be?" Sky wonders, staring at the doll head with wide eyes.

"This looks kind of cool," Aryll says, reaching for the helmet. Warriors shakes his head, instantly pulling her away, to her displeasure, although she didn't say anything.

"Aryll has the right idea, let's cover the head with the helmet," Shadow says, a nauseated look on his face. "Please, it looks disgusting."

Legend nods, wincing and grabbing the helmet before slamming it over the head. 

"Let's pretend that I didn't do that," Legend decides, backing away. Time chuckles, grabbing the top of the helmet and placing it back in the box.

"What if this is a trap?" Hyrule cuts in, biting his lip. "What if—"

"We shouldn't worry about what ifs," Saria says firmly, shaking her head. "If we keep worrying, we'll never get anything done."

"Yeah. We should probably start searching outside of this room," Ilia says, glancing around. "There's a lot of exits to other rooms."

"Most of them are dead ends," Legend points out. "I checked some of them. Most of them were the 'exits' that we came from."

"Well, there's gotta be a couple hallways that lead somewhere. Should we split up?" Warriors says, clutching his scarf.

"That's probably a good plan," Time agrees, nodding along. "Find a few people to explore with. Let's go."

"He says that so casually, like we haven't known each other for the better of thirty minutes," Legend mutters, following Time as he moves towards the hallways.

Everyone eventually breaks off into groups, leaving just a few in the blue space.

"I'm gonna stay and make sure he's alright," Shadow calls over from next to Wild. Aryll nods along, a hand over the yellow box.

"Alright. Ilia, you want to—?" 

"Actually, I'm going to follow Time. There's something off and I kind of want to figure out what," Ilia says apologetically, rushing off to the hallway Time went off to.

Twilight blinks and just nods, scratching the back of his head. "Just me then," he sighs. He starts off in a random direction, intent on finding any clue to get out of there.

_Exploration, start._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ever if you're reading this... :)


	3. Chapter 3

Twilight hums as he steps through a lit hallway. A vending machine sits next to an entrance with the word "Bar" written next to it.

"There's a bar in here?" he wonders, studying the sign. He steps past the doorway and examines the vending machine first. It’s a typical vending machine, filled with sodas and snacks. Only the prices are really high. 

_ Why do these cost twenty rupees _ —

He sighs, stepping away from it. Maybe he’ll find some rupees somewhere. (Unlikely, but he can’t help but hope.)

Waving the thought away, he walks through the doorway and into the Bar.

Dim-ish lights hand from the ceiling, illuminating rows of alcohol. A chalkboard hangs next to the shelves of drinks with words scrawled all over them. A counter with stools sits in front of it all.

“I’m not really sure either," Warriors answers, his head popping up by the counters. "There's not really much here, though, other than alcohol and the sign up there." He points at the green chalkboard.

Twilight takes a closer look at the chalkboard— the words turn into names, pushed into two categories: Can Drink and Can’t Drink.

His name—  _ Twilight _ — sits under Can’t Drink. (He’s a little tempted to drink a bottle just to spite it, but he refrains. This is serious.) 

“Feels like it’s supposed to be a clue, but to what, I have no idea,” Warriors says. 

Names of people he doesn’t know are written along with the people he knows. He examines a couple, squinting at the characters. “Do you know anyone named ‘Sidon’ or ‘Groose…?’” he asks. 

Warriors shakes his head, stepping near him and reading the board. “I don’t recognize any of them.”

There’s a strange glint in his eyes, but he turns away before Twilight can ask.

"Huh..." Twilight responds. He shrugs it off, walking back near the entrance to take a clear look at the room.

"Other than that, I think there’s something behind the stools.”

Warriors circles around to the front and squats down. “Oh yeah, you’re right, there’s a handle behind this thing. Hold on—”

He gets up and moves the rightmost stool aside, showing off a sliding door.

“I didn’t even notice that. You’ve got a good eye,” he remarks, kneeling down and reaching out. “Lemme—”

He grips the handle and pulls, grunting as it slides open a little. "What the heck, is it stuck?" he complains, letting go and rubbing his hands.

"Here let me—" 

The door slides open as Twilight yanks the handle aside. Warriors stares at him before shaking his head in acceptance. 

"What's in there?" Twilight asks as Warriors sticks a hand in.

"Uh... woah, what the fuck—?"

Warriors pulls his hand out, revealing a—

_ A leg—?! _

"It's so fucking  _ realistic—" _ Warriors growls, dropping it and falling back. "Goddess damn it—"

Twilight blinks as something else clatters to the ground. "A cigarette cutter?" he says as he pushes the leg aside with his own leg.

"What's that doing in here? Hell, what the fuck is this leg doing in here—?" 

"...Were we supposed to find a puzzle instead of brute forcing our way through the door...?" Twilight asks quietly.

Warriors exhales, grabbing the cigarette cutter and pushing away the leg towards Twilight. "I don't care if there was a puzzle; if the reward is this fucking thing, I don't care if we did it or not, it probably wasn't worth it."

Twilight nods, picking it up and getting to his feet. "This really is way too realistic," he says, grimacing at the feel of real skin under his palm. He extends his other hand to Warriors, who takes it and gets up. 

"Well... I'm guessing this is related to the body that note was talking about," Warriors says, tugging his scarf gently. "I really fucking hate this puzzle already."

"I think that goes for all of us," Twilight answers, wrinkling his nose. "Aryll had the box with the head over at the giant blue room, want to go stuff it in there?"

"Please," Warriors deadpans, already heading to the hallway out of the bar. "Hurry up."

Twilight nods, following after the other man in quick, large steps. He grips the leg loosely,  _ this _ close to throwing it somewhere and breaking it. (It probably wouldn't go over very well, but he  _ hates _ this… limb. It’s  _ so _ creepy. And what are those marks all over it—?)

The two enter the blue room— the Central Hall, as a sign had said— and paused. 

"Is he—?" Warriors asks, nodding at the still collapsed Wild. Shadow shakes his head. 

"He's fine. What's up?" he asks, glancing between the unconscious boy and the other two. Twilight swallows. 

"Mind if we stuff this leg in that box?" he asks, holding out the doll leg. Shadow winces, gagging to the side. 

"That—"

"Yeah, yeah, can you hand us that box, Aryll?" Warriors interrupts, holding his arm out. Aryll nods, placing the yellow box onto Warriors' hand, which nearly falls over from the weight. 

"Woah, did not expect that," he says, placing it in front of him. He opens the lid and shoves the leg inside crudely next to the head, slamming it shut and backing away. "That's better. I don't think there's any other clues in the Bar, but it wouldn't hurt to check again. Twilight, can you check the other rooms?"

"Sure," Twilight answers, nudging the box over to Shadow, who takes it and slides it back over to Aryll. "Tell us if he wakes up or something."

"Got it," Shadow answers.

The blue scarf trails after Warriors as he heads back to the passageway to the Bar, leaving Twilight alone in exploring again. 

"Where to," Twilight mutters to himself, letting his feet take him in random directions. He looks into dead end after dead end— all of the hallways are the same as the one he and Ilia came from. 

He stops in front of a hallway across from where he had set Ilia down. There's another vending machine in there, colored brown, with a glass wall (coupled with its glass door) blocking off a space with a trash can. 

"A smoking area...?" he says, raising an eyebrow. He walks into the hallway, wary of any traps, and looks into the red vending machine. 

Cigarettes line up neatly on every row, which explains the smoking area. He sticks a hand into the bottom, tapping around—

He pulls out a fancy cigarette. He blinks, squinting at it in suspicion. It seems like a normal cigarette, although he doesn’t really know.

What the point of this cigarette is, he has no idea. There’s no lighter in sight— where he’s searched, at least— so how should he know?

He shakes his head. Better to worry about it later. He pockets the cigarette, making a note to himself.

He heads through the doorway labelled 'Game Room,' which brings him a  _ little _ hope of normalcy in a kidnapping situation. 

It was a long shot, and he was  _ completely _ wrong— inside, he only sees some kind of dartboard...? With a gap around it, along with two doors, red and blue, at the other end. (Who was he kidding?)

"Of course," he sighs, moving around the dartboard and towards the doors. He tries the handle on the red door— locked. 

_ What could be in there? _

He shakes his head again, opening the blue door easily. Inside, there's four other people already searching around.

"Oh, hey Twilight," Ilia calls by a huge painting, framed by blue. There's a grey picture of a man smoking a cigarette. "Have you found anything yet?"

"There was a left leg in the Bar," he answers, shuddering at the mental image. "There was a cigarette cutter too."

Ilia nods, turning her attention to the painting. "I feel like something's going to happen that has to do with this painting. Why would they just... put this here?"

"Decoration?" Twilight suggests, although he snorts at the thought. "I hope it's a decoration, at least."

"They need a better taste then."

There's a chuckle to the side. The two turn to see Time laughing quietly at their words. 

"I'd put that painting in my house," he says jokingly. "I wonder how my guests would react."

"If I ever go to your house and see this painting, I will burn it," Ilia promises, grinning ear to ear. Twilight begins to laugh before— 

_ If we ever get out, that is. _

That thought has him stop. "I'll help out," he says somberly, failing to add a note of humor in his voice. "Anyways, Time, did you find anything?"

"Now that you mention it," Time says, falling back into the quiet mood, "I... give me your hand."

Twilight tilts his head in confusion, although he does what the older man asks. He blinks as heavy-ish little things spill into his palm. When he takes it back, his eyes widen—

"Bullets?" he says disbelievingly.

"Yep, real ones," Time says, crossing his arms. "Found 'em under this chair. We don't have a gun to even use them, so I don't see the point, unless we haven't found it yet."

"I'm willing to bet that we haven't found it yet," Legend calls from up top. "I don't see anything."

"Neither do I," Sky says from the chair next to the ladder. He pokes the dummy. "Well, except that the dummies... make a sloshing noise when I shake them."

Speaking of which—

"What are these dummies even here for...?" Twilight asks, poking the one Time is investigating. "They're so... weird."

Time shrugs. "Hell if I know. They were just here, connected to the chairs."

"I wonder..." Sky begins, although he trails off and doesn't say anything else. 

"Well, either way, we don't have any use for them right now, so we can just ignore it," Time says cheerfully, moving over to Sky.

With that thought in mind, Ilia splits back towards the painting, and Twilight moves to the ladder, climbing up to where Legend is.

"Still don't see anything," Legend informs sarcastically. "I checked a couple chairs, but I didn't see anything, so I didn't bother."

Twilight tilts his head with a confused smile, but leaves it off. Instead, he moves over to the first checkered chair and searches around, lifting the cushion up slightly. Nothing.

"I told you," Legend repeats as Twilight looks through the second chair. "There's—"

"No, there's something here," Twilight says, moving the dummy's head and reaching down in the corner—

His hand closes around a cold handle.

He yanks out a gun.

"What the fu— holy shit, that's a real fucking gun—? Don't tell me you're going to load it," Legend shouts in surprise, bringing his fists up in some kind of defense. 

"No, I'm not going to load this gun with real fucking bullets and shoot you," Twilight hisses back, turning it over in his hand. "I'm not  _ that _ willing to kill."

"You better not fucking be," Legend says, clenching his fists tighter. 

"You guys found a gun?" Time calls up. "Get down here."

Like obedient children, the two slide down the ladder. Twilight hands over the gun to Time, who inspects it a bit, pulling the barrel out and looking at it. 

"Weird hole in the middle, nine chambers... but it's a real ass gun, alright," Time says, placing it back in Twilight's hand. "Careful not to hit someone or load it with real bullets."

"I said I'm not  _ going _ to," Twilight groans, tossing the gun and catching. "Where do I even put this—?"

"Just carry it around. I'm sure we can all trust you with it," the older man says with a smile. "Right?"

"...Yeah, sure," Legend agrees hesitantly, narrowing his eyes. "One wrong move, and I won't hesitate—"

"I don't need to say it again," Twilight sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "Whatever, I'm going to go look for an actual room."

"Good luck," Time calls after him as he leaves the blue room. 

"Good luck convincing the others I'm not going to shoot them, yeah," Twilight mutters to himself, exiting the Game Room.

He moves back to the Central Hall, waving once to Shadow and Aryll again (Shadow points at the gun dubiously before turning away) before looking through all of the other hallways. One is a doorway that leads to—

"A cafeteria...?" 

At the back of the cafeteria, Saria waves at him in front of a pitch black... hallway? Or is that a room? Twilight can't really tell, but he walks around the tables towards her. She smiles at him, motioning him to follow her.

Wordlessly, he follows her into the darkness, coming across some kind of dark pathway, illuminated by a light above a door. 

"It's unlocked," Saria says, pointing at the door. "I tried it earlier. Getting an unsettling feeling, but... we have to go inside sooner or later. I was going to ask Time, but you were the first one to come, so... you want to go in?"

Twilight nods, stepping towards the door and shoving it open.

Inside is a... brightly lit room. Pink covers the walls and floor with eerie, stuffed purple bunnies below a heart shaped vent. White shelves line the walls neatly, with weird... fabric— is it fabric? He doesn't want to check— stacked on them. 

A torso covered in some kind of cloak sits in the middle. 

"Wh... what the heck?!" Saria exclaims, scrambling away behind Twilight. "What is that?!"

"A torso," Twilight says grimly. "I found a leg earlier, and I'm pretty sure it's just a doll."

"It  _ better _ be," she hisses, jabbing a finger at the robed doll body. "I want to kick it."

"Let's not," Twilight says, stifling a laugh. "Come on, let's look around. Maybe there's a clue in here."

He moves towards the torso carefully, kicking a stuffed bunny aside that’s close to the torso.

"Wait," Saria says as the doll collides with the wall and falls to the floor. "There's something in there, I'm pretty sure."

She goes and picks it up, shaking it slightly—

More bullets rain down on to the ground.

"More—?" Twilight says, picking one up. It's a lot lighter than the other ones, though. "They're really light." He pulls out the actual bullets and nods in confirmation.

"Lemme—" Saria cuts herself off, grabbing the rest of the light bullets. 

"What?"

"Oh, I see," she says, nodding to herself. "These are dummy bullets."

"That explains why they're so light."

"Mhmm, they're harmless. Only makes a 'click' sound when they're fired," Saria says with a small smile. She hands it over to Twilight, who places it in his left pocket. "You might want to go check in with Time, though. He knows better than me."

Twilight nods, more than ready to escape the eerie pink room. 

He moves into the cafeteria once more and spots a red dart and a lighter on one of the tables. 

_ That wasn't there before, was it—? _

He grabs them anyways, placing them in his pockets with the fake bullets.

When he moves into the Central Hall, Shadow's up and waiting for him, waving at him once. 

"Hey Twi," Shadow says as Twilight approaches the path to the Game Room. "Mind if I join you? I'm going a little stir crazy."

"What about Aryll and Wild?" he responds. Shadow shakes his head.

"They'll be fine. Aryll's tough, and Wild will wake up soon," he answers, placing a hand on his hip. "You don't trust me, do you?"

“Don't take it personally," Twilight says, stepping towards the Game Room. "If you're going to follow, come on."

"Sweet."

The two move into the hallway with the smoking room, through the Game Room ("How lonely," Shadow comments quietly) and into the Blue Room.

"I see you've brought company," Time remarks as the two step in. "What brought you back here so fast?"

Twilight pulls out and holds the dummy bullets in response.

"More bullets?" Time says, moving over and letting Twilight pour them into his hand. "They’re pretty light, are they dummies?”

“Yeah,” Twilight says.

I'm guessing you want me to inspect them?"

"Please," Twilight answers. Time nods.

"Give me a second," he says, stepping back.

Twilight hums and moves over next to the exit, surveying the room. Shadow moves next to him, doing the same. 

"Well, there's nothing else we can do here," Shadow says after a moment or two. "Let's go look for more clues."

Twilight nods, about to leave when—

"Oh, hey, Twilight, you've got a second—?" Time says. Twilight pauses as Shadow walks through the doorway.

"You coming—?"

Iron bars rise up over Shadow, closing off the doorway. Twilight yelps in surprise, stumbling back—

**"Welcome contestants!!** **_IIIIIIIIT’S RUSSIAN ROULETTE TIME!!!”_ **


	4. Chapter 4

Twilight whirls around at the voice, tightening his grip on the handle of the gun. _Who—_

"Shit, we're locked in," Legend swears, kicking the iron bars over the door. Shadow grunts in affirmation, trying to pull it down, to no avail.

"It won't open," he growls. "I-I'll go look for something to pry open with it!" 

His footsteps tap away, but Twilight isn't paying much attention. Where was that voice— _Russian Roulette…?_

"Well, this sure is bad," Time drawls, placing a hand on his hip. 

"Li— Twilight, you okay?" Ilia asks, dashing up to him. He nods, glancing around the room again. 

"A trap," Sky says calmly. There's no trace of panic in his voice. "Stay alert, everyone."

**“Hey now, don’t put yourselves so on guard! Takes the fun out of everything.”**

They all turn to the source of the voice. The blue painting grins down at them, his expression... shifting. 

"What the hell?" Legend blurts disbelievingly, stomping up to the painting and pointing up at it accusingly. "What are you?!"

The painting laughs. **"I'm a painting. Call me Meister, the master of this room! Now, let's get to the rules of the game, yeah?"**

"T-The rules—?" Ilia stammers, still seemingly processing everything.

**"Well, of course! You wanna bet your life without knowing how this works? That'd be pretty fun, don'tcha think?"**

"My... life?"

**"It's pretty simple! There's five of you living humans, and four open seats. One is the Challenger, and the other four get to be targets for shooting practice!”** Meister explains giddily. 

"Targets for _shooting practice?!"_ Legend yells angrily. "Why the fuck would we do that?!"

**"Because otherwise, you die!"** the painting says matter-of-factly. **"Duh."**

A frustrated, angry growl escapes the other man's throat, but he stays quiet. 

**"I gave you that cool weapon for a reason, y'know,"** Meister chuckles. **"Better hope you don't get shot!"**

"Surely there's a way for everyone to live," Time says in response, raising an eyebrow.

**"Naturally! A regular deathtrap is just boring, y'know?"** Meister sighs. **"But first... you'll have to decide who'll be the Challenger for me."**

"You're telling us to decide who's going to shoot us without knowing the game _or_ each other? Who's gonna want to be the targets?!" Legend exclaims, disbelief lacing his words. 

"...Will the Challenger be safe...?" Twilight asks quietly.

**"Yep, only the targets get to relish the thrill! What a shame..."**

"...I see," Twilight says, turning to Ilia with a small smile. "Ilia, can I ask you to be the Challenger?"

"...Wait, what?!" Ilia says, finally processing.

"Are you shitting me?!" Legend interrupts. "You can't just decide that?!"

"I guess it wouldn't be right to make her hold a gun," Sky says, tapping his chin. 

Ilia whirls towards Twilight, poking his shoulder with a wild look in her eyes. “Wait, Twilight, why me?”

Twilight gives her a smile. “Because I trust you,” he says simply, poking back. “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

“That goes to you!” Ilia says, throwing her hands up. “You’re good at puzzles and you’ve saved me before! You should be the Challenger!”

"I'm in favor," Time chimes in. "Twilight's got a clear head."

_I... do?_

Twilight shakes his head gently in denial. “I don’t think I can do this, to be honest,” he says, standing his ground. “Ilia, can I entrust you with Challenger?”

He feels selfish, for placing this burden on her, but he knows he’ll panic, so he prays that she’ll accept.

The memory of that boy shooting himself flashes by for a moment, only a moment. He stops breathing for a second. 

An image of Ilia getting shot flies by, and he's reeling, he can't let that—

“Please,” he says, staring into Ilia’s eyes. There’s a moment of nothing, both of them refusing to back down. Then her eyes harden up, her hand slips from his shoulder, and she finally gives a small nod, turning to the others.

"...No," Legend says firmly, shaking his head. "Sorry. It's not that I _don’t_ trust you two or anything. But I don't."

"Holding it to a vote... that's the best way to settle this, huh? Let's discuss it first, and then hold a vote," Sky suggests, gripping the cloth around his shoulders.

"Yeah, probably the only way," Time says.

Twilight nods, and Ilia flashes a weak thumbs up. 

"Alright, let's discuss who's going to be the Challenger," Legend says.

Ilia shares a glance with Twilight, but she turns away almost immediately. No doubt she’s not ready. 

"We have to have the most trustworthy person do this, right? Look, I have experience with guns. I got this," Legend says confidently, crossing his arms. 

"You do?" 

"Yeah, I hate lies. I learned how to shoot during a couple travels," Legend explains. 

"So you've had training," Time muses, crossing his arms. "Well, I'll keep it simple. Even if you do have experience, I don't trust you."

Legend is silent for a moment. His expression is stone cold. "Really?"

Time smiles apologetically. "Sorry."

"...Hmm... it's pretty tense now. I don't want to put all the responsibility on Ilia..." Sky sighs. "This is tough."

"She'll be alright," Twilight says, nudging Ilia’s arm. "She's got a mind of steel, like... a Steelmind." He smiles slightly at the nickname he gave her the first time they met.

"Steelmind...?" Sky says dubiously, his mouth twitching upwards. 

"Why that part...?" Ilia mutters under her breath, shaking her head slightly. Twilight just flashes a grin at her.

"Anyways," Time cuts in, "There hasn’t been enough time for me to really trust you, Legend.”

"Yet, you're really trusting of Twilight, consequently Ilia," Sky says, raising his eyebrows. "Strange, don't you think?"

"Oh, you can tell?" Time says amusedly. Sky's smile grows a little.

"Is it because Ilia and Twilight are good friends? If they can vouch for each other, then they can be trusted according to you, correct?" he asks, tilting his head to the side. Time snorts.

"Do I really look that calculating?"

Time chuckles, shaking his head. "That comes as a shock... that hurts your friendly policeman, you know?" 

He grins at the deadpanned glares sent his way. 

"Really. Well, it's just intuition. I'm confident in my eye for people," he says with a shrug, pointing at his only open eye. He mouths a _‘get it’_ , snickering as Legend groans painfully. 

"Well..." Sky says, humming thoughtfully, "There's a piece missing from your story."

"Oh?"

Sky smiles, but it's anything but warm. "There's someone else who'd be well suited to this... 'game.' But for some reason, he's not presenting himself as a candidate..."

Time's expression darkens, but he's completely silent. Twilight glances between the two, electric flying from their eyes. Sky finally shakes his head, backing down. 

"Whatever the case, if he refuses it, I have no desire to ask him,” he says, placing his hands behind his back with a blank smile. 

The corner of Time's mouth twitches upwards into a half-smile. "I suppose that's something. Anyways. Back to you, Legend; whether you have experience or not, I can't truly trust you."

"Isn't experience important for this game?" Legend asks tonelessly, a grin on his face. "Won't you explain yourself, Mr. Policeman?"

A short chuckle. "I don't think this game requires skill with a gun, in a sense," Time says, snapping his fingers a couple times. "Look around— see those dolls? They're most likely dummy targets."

Legend nods along as Time continues— "Shoot a human or a doll... that's what I think the objective of this game is. You have to have a cool head.”

"I'm always cool headed," Legend says sarcastically. "I'll be the Challenger, I'll be _fine._ I won’t mess up.”

"Even when you're pointing a gun at someone?"

Legend's expression shifts to what's _almost_ surprise. 

"It's an awful thing, you know. When the person you're looking at could die by your hand. You know that feeling?" Time asks slowly, a haunted smile on his face.

The shorter man is silent, mulling over the words. 

"I trust someone determined to save his friend more than an amateur with average training."

Twilight furrows his brows. _That... sounds awfully... weird—_

"...Alright, fine, maybe I won't be up for it. But..." Legend huffs. "...shouldn't _you_ be the Challenger? Especially since you were a cop, you must've had _some_ training."

Time falls dead silent. His expression fades to stone, and Twilight swallows nervously.

_What’s wrong?_

"Exactly," Sky pipes up, his smile gone. His eyes ice over, a spark of suspicion underneath. "Why isn't the policeman, who should have experience, recommending himself?" 

"If I'm gonna put my life on the line, I want someone who's probably the most dependable here," Legend agrees, crossing his arms. "If it's not me, then Time."

"...Time," Ilia says, worry in her voice, "what's wrong?"

He's not talking. _Why is he silent—_

"We won't know if you keep quiet!" Legend says, frustration clear. "Come on, talk you dumb cop!" 

"If you refuse, I'd like to at least know the reason," Sky says monotonously. "We can't end our discussion in this state."

Time doesn't say anything, just stares at them with a blank expression. 

Twilight grits his teeth. He has to say something. _Say something._

They make eye contact, and Twilight opens his mouth, _say something—_

"Why are you silent?" he asks. No answer. He grits his teeth, takes a breath— "Time, _answer me!"_

"Woah," Time says, holding a hand up in defense. 

"Time," Twilight says firmly, loudly, sparked anger finally blooms, "we need to know why you can't be the Challenger. It’s a matter of life and death; at this rate we’ll be putting ourselves in danger!!”

A beat of silence.

And then—

"Ah... ahaha..."

Time bursts into laughter, holding his stomach and laughing his heart out. Twilight rears back slightly, not having expected this.

"What are you, my wife?" Time wheezes out, inhaling sharply. Once he calms down, he straightens up, placing a hand on his hip. "All right, all right, I'll explain. A while ago..."

He takes a pause. Everyone else, including Twilight, leans in not-so-subtly.

  
  
  


"I shot a person."

  
  
  


It's quiet.

_Wh… what?_

"Since then, I haven't been able to fire a gun," Time says, a haunted look flitting through his eye. It's gone as soon as it came.

"...Wait, what?" Ilia says, her eyes widening. 

"It's pathetic," Time says, chuckling and running a hand through his hair. "Should've been prepared for that when I became a detective, but here we are."

"If... if something like that happened, wouldn't it make the news?" Twilight asks, raising an eyebrow. Time smiles coldly. 

"Strange, huh?" he says blankly. "Well..." He trails off before his half smile comes back on to his face. "Well, that's all. That's the truth."

"...That's the truth, huh?" Legend exhales.

"Yeah."

"...On the job, right? Did the person you shoot... die...?"

Time doesn't say anything. A grim smile appears on his face. 

"Real sorry I can't live up to expectations," he says semi-sarcastically. "I can't point a gun at anyone without making my head go weird. Can't stop sweating."

A feeling akin to sympathy flits through, but Twilight shakes it off. Now’s not the time to be sorry.

"...I guess we can't have you do it, then," Legend decides, although he sounds unsure.

"Does that… mean you’ll count on Ilia?” Twilight asks, finally stepping up. “There’s no one else, and I’m confident Ilia can do it.”

"I'm still uneasy. Why not Sky—?"

Sky shakes his head. "Apologies, but I'm not feeling up to nearly shooting people."

"What makes you think Ilia might be up for it, then?" Legend argues hotly. “Hell, maybe Twi can—”

“Legend,” Ilia finally speaks up, taking a step forward. “Let me do it. I’ll save all of you, I swear on my life. Link… Twilight’s trusting me to do this, so I… I won’t mess this up!”

There's a pause, a moment of nothing as Legend goes through a variety of expressions. (It'd be funny if it wasn’t so tense.)

"Well then," Sky says after the silence, holding a finger up. His eyes sweep across the four other people. "Let's hold a vote, shall we?"

"Alright," Time agrees. "On three."

  
  


"One."

  
  


"Two."

  
  


"Three."

  
  


Twilight points at Ilia, along with three other fingers—

"Legend...?" 

Their gazes connect. "I... This might be a bad decision, but... good luck," Legend says, his finger trained on Ilia. Yet he’s watching Twilight carefully. "I lose."

He moves up to Ilia, a smile on his face—

"Ow!" she yelps as Legend reaches up and flicks her forehead. 

"Damn, aren't you in shock," the older man says sarcastically, shoving her aside weakly and heading to the ladder. "Don't fuck up."

Ilia blinks, processing, before smiling. "Yeah, yeah."

Sky drops his finger that's pointed at Legend and brushes his hair behind his ear. "Interesting. Good luck, Miss Ilia," he says, following Legend up. 

_Why did he—_

Time ruffles Ilia’s hair as he passes by, ignoring her indignant cry. "I'd rather not die, so good luck," he says, climbing up the ladder and sitting down next to Legend.

Twilight watches them go before moving up to Ilia, clapping her shoulder. No words are exchanged, and he gives her a small smile, before falling into the last empty chair between two dummies.

Ilia nods again, before turning to the painting. "Explain," she says shortly.

**"That took a while,”** Meister remarks. **"You want the rules now?"**

"Obviously!" Legend yells from his chair.

**"I'm not talking to you,"** the painting says, snapping his fingers. Legend nearly screams as a _bang_ resounds right above him, and something hits—

"You almost fucking shot me!!" Legend screeches, a thump above Twilight signalling either he fell or jumped. "What the fuck!!"

**"No talking unless it's the Challenger,"** Meister sing-songs. **"So, Ilia, you want the rules now or not?"**

Ilia takes a deep breath and nods. Twilight swallows a bitter taste of fear and prepares himself for the worst. 

_Here we go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow yall are still reading? lol  
> anyways, if yall want to comment, please choose:
> 
> Legend or Hyrule?
> 
> thanks! (and to those who know the shtick of this entire thing... have fun :D)


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